“M. Costeclar owes us a visit,” said he; “and it is possible that he may call in my absence. I wish him to be admitted; and I forbid you to go out, so that you can have no pretext to refuse him the door. I presume there will not be found in my house any one bold enough to ill receive a man whom I like, and whom I have selected for my son-in-law.”
But was it probable, was it even possible, that M. Costeclar could venture upon such a step after Mlle. Gilberte’s treatment of him on the previous Saturday evening?
“No, a thousand times no!” affirmed Maxence to his mother and sister. “So you may rest easy.”
Indeed they tried to be, until that very afternoon the sound of rapidly-rolling wheels attracted Mme. Favoral to the window. A coupe, drawn by two gray horses, had just stopped at the door.
“It must be he,” she said to her daughter.
Mlle. Gilberte had turned slightly pale.
“There is no help for it, mother,” she said: “You must receive him.”
“And you?”
“I shall remain in my room.”
“Do you suppose he won’t ask for you?”